round midnight
by aochikku
Summary: The night brings out something strange in her—;; peinxkonan. I don't even know what genre this is considered...? Please review, I'd like to see how I'm doing.


**A/N: Hey! This is my first story on FF~ :D And I haven't actually written in a long, ****_long _****time, so this may suck lol. Please tell me what you think! Input is greatly appreciated. **

**Thank you to Gekko Kitsune for the feedback! As well as usarnis ( .com), and my friends Caroline and Josh! :D **

**And also, thank you for reading~**

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****—; 'round midnight, the summer ghosts come along...

She called to him late at night– the summer moon was shining brightly then. The words that escaped her pierced lips was sugary, sweet, excited. Something that was unusual for someone as quiet and reserved as her. And he awoke, irritated and drenched in sweat (damn the hideout, lacking in air conditioners! They didn't even have fans), to her voice. brbrbr

He never really understood why she called so deep in the evening, though; tomorrow was just as busy as always. She knew that he needed some sleep, otherwise he'd be grouchy, bed-headed, and an utter pain to work with. He should've cared, but some bitterness within himself wouldn't allow it.

But even he in his state of tiredness replied to her call:

"Yes, I'm coming."

As soon as he entered her living quarters, his eyes caught the silhouette of a slender woman. Her blue hair seemed to blend with the pale slivers of moonlight that streamed in from the window. The paper flower that sat daintily upon her head reflected the moon as well, but a bit brighter.

Holding a small paper crane in her delicate hands (they wouldn't be described as 'delicate', per say, but they weren't rough or mannish either. He never noticed the callouses and papercuts that peppered her skin), her amber eyes lit up briefly, lips puckering with content. The glitter in her eyes vanished as quickly as it came, her mouth stayed the same– pursed, like she'd eaten something sour. It didn't seem like she felt that way at all (her emotions were always such a mystery).

"I made this for you." she said, bringing it closer to him, smiling gently. Though she'd given him so many before, he accepted it anyway. What would he do? Turning down a gift is _very_ ungrateful.

His lilac eyes, sleepy and half-awake, were shut when he said:

"Konan, you're supposed to be asleep—"

"Oh, I know."

The sudden curtness of her reply was uncharacteristic of Konan, who was always silent and polite. There was an unnerving coyness in the tone of her voice that made him uneasy. Something about the deep night seemed to turn on a switch inside of his partner (who he thought he knew so well. Why not? They had known each other for so long), and made her act so strange.

"Pein, I know this;" she continued, an ethereal tone in her voice. Maybe she was half-asleep, half-dreaming. "The night awoke me, and it won't allow me rest. I wanted to fold a paper crane for you, to pass the time."

The shadows of the hundred paper cranes that hung from her ceiling swayed as Pein, a bit puzzled, looked at them with hazy eyes. Dozens and dozens of them were already there– why couldn't she give him one of those? It wasn't like it was too difficult or anything. They were all the same.

"You already have several," he told her tiredly, wishing she'd just let him go back to sleep. This midnight aspect of his partner was childish, and absurd (at this thought, he was reminded of the scent of roses in the springtime). "Can't you give me one of them?"

"I believe not." she replied, folding another crane. Her hands moved so swiftly, and carefully. In a matter of moments, it was already done. She handed it to him, taking the other one he cradled in his hands. "I'll give you this one instead; the last one was imperfect."

Imperfect? They looked quite similar to him.

"I don't see any difference." Pein stated bluntly, accepting her gift.

"Naturally."

Her eyes soon met his, and she parted her lips– half-closed, but not really. A breeze from an open window wafted within, carrying the scent of a nearby forest with it.

"A night like this brings out something ephemeral," Konan said, taking out another sheet of paper. Her gaze never broke; there was a fierceness in her eyes. "Maybe it's the summer sun that fades from the sky so late, or the jasmines that never seem to stop blooming. Even at night."

"A night like this brought out something strange in you." Pein replied, turning away. All she could look at now was his back. "Like a ghost from before, coming back to haunt your memories."

"Haunt me? All that haunts me are words, phrases, names– but there aren't any ghosts around here, I made sure of that."

There was a short silence, in which Konan, with her rough-yet-smooth fingers had finally finished her current project: four white stars. As small as the print of her index finger. She put them in a nearby jar that was coated with a small layer of dust, trying to be as gentle as she could manage. Her eyes, now dull, looked down.

"And yet," she continued, keeping her eyes downcast. Sighing huskily, she twisted the jar's cover shut, and left it to sit by itself on the table. "I am visited by memories each night; when I awaken to the moon in my eyes, visions of before drift in the back of my mind. You. Me. Yahiko. Everyone. I remember."

"Of course, I remember too."

He was already standing outside the doorway when he noticed– the sky wasn't dark anymore, and thin rays of sunlight cut through a cluster of thick trees. A thought of sleeping in had formed in his head, but that wasn't really an option.

"The night's over." he said, leaving. "But it's as hot as always."

"Of course," Konan responded, finally looking up. That was all she said.

Either that, or he left before she could finish.

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**Hey, does anyone have any fanfic ideas (for Naruto)? I only have one more idea, and that's it. (a JūgoxOC ficlet.)**

**Pass it by me, maybe I'll take it. c:**

**'Till next time~**


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